Changing Woman
by Marguerite1
Summary: There are more ways of dealing with Cancer than a Consortium-made chip. Written during S5.


**Changing Woman**

Classification: X File, related to the cancer arc   
Summary: There are more things in heaven and earth, Scully...   


***** 

Author's Note: "Changing Woman" is a major figure in Navajo mythology. Born of the First Man and First Woman of Unsurpassed   
Beauty, Changing Woman is responsible for the cyclical nature of the seasons and possesses unusual wisdom and courage. 

***** 

Part One 

***** 

"Mulder, I need a favor." 

He looked up from the folder he was reading, his glasses glinting in the light of his desk lamp. Scully was standing in front of him, her   
demeanor cool and her face set stubbornly. Mulder steeled himself with humor. 

"Scully, we just got paid three days ago. You can't be hitting me up for a loan." 

"Mulder." 

He had learned to gauge her frame of mind by the ever-changing color of her eyes. Today's was a pale gray: serious. He leaned   
forward and motioned for her to sit opposite him. "Okay. What do you need?" 

"Transportation." 

He frowned at the one-word answer. "To where? By plane, train, or hot-air balloon?" 

"Your car, actually." She met his gaze, then looked away. "I need you to take me somewhere." 

Mulder bit back the innuendo that rose to his lips. "To the ends of the earth," he said earnestly. "Where are you going?" 

"My doctor." She heard his sudden intake of breath and put her hand on his forearm in reassurance. "It isn't cancer, Mulder." 

"Okay. Thanks." There was an awkward pause and he touched her hand almost as if to make sure that it was warm and healthy. "But   
you'd tell me...?" 

She felt the anxiety that radiated from his fingers and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Her mouth twitched upward in a rueful smile.   
"Of course. But it's not. I just..." She exhaled sharply and shifted in the chair, releasing the contact. "I've made a decision. You're   
probably going to disagree with me, but it's what I want to do and it's what's best." 

As he nodded his understanding, he took off his glasses and looked directly at her. "What decision?" 

With only a second's hesitation, she said: "I'm having the implant removed." 

"Scully!" 

"Listen to me Mulder. I've given this a lot of thought. A life outside of my control isn't a life at all. This thing in my neck gives away   
my autonomy. It gives it to God knows who, to serve an agenda that is no part of me. I can't live like this, never knowing what it'll   
drive me to do next. My decisions have to be mine, and they have to come from within me, from what's natural in me. This chip is   
taking away my humanity." 

"It gave you back your life." 

She flinched. "We don't know that for certain." 

"You have no idea what I know. After what I've done..." 

"Dammit, Mulder, cut it out!" 

He ceased his ranting and stared at her. "I *beg* your pardon?" 

"Stop doing that! Quit making my life revolve around yours!" 

There was a sudden, icy silence, punctuated by Mulder's ragged inhalation. "I don't want you to have the chip removed, Scully," he   
breathed. 

"Really?" She glared icily at him. "I'd never have guessed. But it's not your decision, it's mine. And I've made it." 

"Just like that, without consulting me." 

The sound of her brittle laughter was cold. "You can't be serious." 

He stood in front of her with his fists clenched. "I've never been more serious in my life than I am right at this moment. I do not want   
you to have the chip removed and I will do anything in my power to see that you do not undergo this procedure, up to and including   
having you declared incapable of making this decision." 

"What the hell gives you the right to say something like that?" she demanded. 

"You're my partner and my friend. That gives me the right!" 

"If you were my 'friend,' you'd know that this was in my best interests!" 

"I gave you that chip." 

"I know that, Mulder!" 

Wheedling, he crouched in front of her chair. "I broke into the Department of Defense and used the security pass of a dead man--a man I   
killed and then mutilated to buy time--to get it." 

"I know that, too." She was calm but resolute as she continued, letting her hand brush along his arm. "And I can never thank you   
enough. But it still has a control over me that I cannot allow. It has to come out." 

"It was what I asked for when Cancer Man said I could have anything I wanted. I put you above everything else, Scully--even my   
sister." 

He was desperate enough to say it, and Scully saw right through him. 

"Don't do this, Mulder. It won't work, and I'll just get up and leave." She began to rise as she spoke, but Mulder held firmly to her   
arms. 

"Tell me the truth, Scully. Do you believe that the chip had anything to do with your remission?" 

"What difference would that make? If you were genuinely interested in my health, the method of my deliverance wouldn't make any   
difference to you." She wriggled out of his grasp and stood up just as he delivered his final shot. 

"If you deny what it's done for you, then you deny me." 

It made her reel. Angered, she let her retorts bubble over unchecked. "You've got one hell of a nerve, Mulder! You're not some   
damned martyr to my cause! Yes, you did a brave and selfless thing for me!" Her voice softened as she continued. "It was   
preposterous and dangerous, and you'll never know how I loved you for it--but you don't own me as a result, Mulder. I won't allow   
that to happen to me." 

Slowly, as the effect of her words washed over him, he sank into his chair. "I didn't really think you would," he muttered. 

"But you had to try." Scully went behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. Mulder looked up at her with an attempt at a wry   
smile. "I know you, Mulder. I know what you're thinking." 

"Do you?" His eyes darkened and he dropped his head into his hands. "I wish you did, so I wouldn't have to say it." 

She waited. 

"Scully?" 

"I'm right here, Mulder." 

He faced her and grasped both of her hands firmly. "If you take that chip out, you could die." 

"I don't have any choice. I can't live with something that controls me." 

"You're sure?" 

She began to relax, letting him seek strength from her hands. "I'm sure." 

"Scully?" 

Her name was spoken so softly that she almost didn't hear it. She looked down and saw Mulder looking up at her with his admiring   
gaze tempered by sadness. Her fingers brushed his face as she waited for him to continue. "What is it?" 

"If you die, Scully, it'll be my fault." 

"I won't, and it isn't." 

Somehow there were more words, even softer than the first. "If you die, I'll die, too." 

"Mulder, no." She touched her palm to his cheek. "You won't let me down like that. Anyone can just curl up and die; it takes strength   
to go on living." 

"But I get that strength from you." 

"Funny--I thought I was getting it from you." 

Her innocent expression made him smile in return. "Scully, I don't know why you put up with me." 

"I keep you around because you're decorative." 

Laughing now, he stood up, leaning forward to bring his face level with hers. "When's your appointment?" 

"Tomorrow at three. It's just office surgery, but the doctor suggested I not drive myself. Are you sure you want to do this, Mulder?" 

Finally the storm clouds cleared from his face and he clasped her closely. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

***** 

Mulder sat in the doctor's office, crossing and uncrossing his legs while not reading the magazine he held loosely in his hands. He was   
still tense from the day's silence, both in the office and in the car, and he desperately longed to break out of the room and race down the   
hall as fast as he could. 

"Mister Mulder?" 

He looked up and saw a nurse smiling at him with her hand extended. "She's changed now. You can come in." 

"Thanks." He followed the nurse to an exam room, where he found Scully lying on her stomach, the gap in her paper gown covered   
modestly with a clean sheet. "And me without my camera," he quipped. 

"The doctor said you could stay with me. You don't have to look, though." 

"Thanks." There was a rolling stool in the corner and he took a seat on it, scooting up near her. She had her arms folded in front of the   
pillow; she reached out and Mulder took hold of her hand. "You're sure about this, Scully?" 

"I'm sure." 

Their eyes met and held. The door opened and the doctor came in with another nurse. "Dana, right on time as always." 

"Thanks for fitting me in today. Marjorie Reynolds, this is my partner, Fox Mulder." 

Reynolds was scrubbing up and looked over her shoulder at Mulder. "Pardon my not shaking hands." 

"I'm glad they're not shaking," Mulder said dryly, and everyone laughed. 

"This will only take a couple of minutes. I asked someone to be here to drive Dana home in case the local makes her queasy. Speaking   
of queasy, Mr. Mulder..." 

"I won't watch. I've got a better view right here." 

Scully graced him with a full smile as the nurse tilted her head until her cheek rested on the pillow. Mulder kissed her fingertips. 

"Then let's do it." The doctor worked quickly and silently. 

Mulder's eyes were fixed on Scully's, and he gave her a supportive smile when the sound of metal on glass was heard moments later.   
For just an instant Scully's face paled as she realized what was being taken from her, but just as suddenly she rejoiced that her precious   
independence was regained. 

"I'm just putting on a butterfly, Dana, so no sudden movements with your neck. Just a second...okay, you can sit up, but slowly."   
Reynolds offered her hand for assistance and helped Scully sit up straight. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine." Out of the corner of her eye she caught Mulder's shoulders shaking with amusement. Scully looked at her old med school   
friend's smirk just as Murder started chuckling, and she began to laugh helplessly. 

*** 

She was not laughing three days later when Mulder came into the office. She was sitting on the edge of his desk with her head bowed.   
"Scully?" Mulder asked, concerned. "What's the matter?" 

There was no response. He dropped the papers he was carrying and took a seat next to her. "Is there a problem?" Scully's face was   
veiled by her copper hair, but he could still see her nod. "Did I screw something up?" The head shook negatively. Mulder put his hand   
on her arm. "Can't you tell me?" 

Slowly Scully raised her head and turned to face him. There was a thick trickle of blood coming from her nose. Her face was ashen and   
her eyes were enormous with fear. 

Mulder felt his heart freeze in his chest. He took out his handkerchief and dabbed at the blood. "It's so dry in here--you probably just   
got an irritation." The words, meant to soothe her, were spoken in a voice thick with panic, and his hands were shaking badly.   
Tenderly he took her hands in his and waited for the words that would destroy all his hopes. 

"It started yesterday. I had an x-ray this morning. Then I had a CAT scan." Her voice broke. 

"The tumor?" She nodded, blinking back tears. The sight made Mulder's own eyes start to water. "Ah, Scully." 

"I've been thinking, Mulder. About my independence. About how I was willing to die for it." She waited for a moment until she was   
sure she had Mulder's full attention. "Mulder, I think I made a mistake," she whispered. "I was so sure I was doing the right thing, but   
now I know that I can't go through that again. I can't ask my mother to endure it, or my brothers. So, I thought I might try having the   
chip put back in." 

"I'm so sorry. I know how much you hated having that in you." 

"There's more. I took the chip to the Gunmen. They all examined it. And they all said...Mulder, there's a part of the mechanism that   
'knows' when it's been removed. It's sort of a self-destruct. If we re-implant, chances are that it won't work. Or if it does, and I   
remove it again, the next time it will surely be destroyed." 

"Then it's settled. We'll find a way to get you another one. It may take some time to arrange a break-in, now that Kritschgau has   
conveniently disappeared..." 

"It's growing at an incredibly accelerated rate. I may only have a few weeks." She was sitting utterly still, looking down at their joined   
hands. After a moment she met Mulder's stricken eyes with hers. 

The tremors in her hands began to spread through her entire body until she was shivering, her teeth chattering. Mulder took his jacket   
off and put it over her shoulders, then wrapped his arms around her, warming her. "Just let it go, Dana. It's all right." 

"I can't. Someone will hear me." 

"No, they won't. We're in the basement, remember? Rank has its privileges." 

She hiccuped, laughter warring with tears, but the tears won at last and she gave in to her sorrow. Mulder held tightly to her, smoothing   
her hair and making wordless noises of comfort. When the weeping slowed, he tilted her chin up and wiped the salty traces away with   
his fingertips. "What can I do for you?" he asked softly. 

"Keep holding me, for starters," she said, her old voice returning. 

"That's a given. What else?" 

Scully took a deep breath. "Would you tell Skinner for me?" 

Sadly he nodded his assent. "On one condition. Take a cab home and stay there. Don't call your mother or do anything until I get to   
you. Okay?" 

"Okay." She stood unsteadily, straightening her back and adjusting her hair until only Mulder could have known what terror lay just   
beneath the surface of her calm face. "Thank you," she said evenly as she returned his jacket. 

Their hands met as he took the coat and they both looked down at the splatters of blood on the lapels. "I don't think I'll have to say   
much to him." He touched the side of her face. "I won't be long." 

He watched her and kept a smile alive for her as she went out the door. Only when she left did he allow himself to breathe in the scent   
she had left behind on his sleeve. 

Abruptly he balled up the jacket and threw it onto the desk. "Damn!" he cried. "Damn all of you!" He paced the length of the office,   
knocking over objects and scattering papers in his wake. His face was a contorted mask of frustration and grief as he continued to talk   
aloud to himself. 

"Screw-up, jerk, idiot, KILLER!" 

The last word resounded against the concrete walls. 

"It should've been ME!" 

He knew that it could still be him. He could go first. He could just end it all with only a brief taste of metal in his mouth instead of the   
bitter bile of lifelong guilt. 

But he had promised Scully that he'd survive. 

"Why?" 

Mulder began rummaging around on his desk for paper. When agitated, he liked to make lists, to organize his thoughts where he could   
see and remember them. But now he was in a hurry to justify his existence. 

He rolled up one sleeve and wrote just above his wrist. "I promised her." Above that, he penned "I can help her." Finally, as tears   
began to well up in his eyes, he wrote, "I believe in her." 

Belief. The idea that had carried him all these years. 

"I want to believe." 

Taking deep, calming breaths, Mulder turned to the poster behind him. He groped until he found a heavy marker. With long strokes he   
inked over the spaceship in the photograph, his hand moving as if of its own volition as it continued to deface the poster. A heavy black   
circle was formed around the words "I want." 

What did he want? 

"I want to die," he whispered, resting his cheek against the crisp, cool paper. 

He continued abusing the poster, not even looking at his handiwork until the marker fell from his trembling fingers. Some of the letters   
were now obliterated, leaving a new message: 

"I want to live." 

Mulder stared at the message from his subconscious. 

He pushed the intercom button on his phone and dialed. As he requested an interview with Skinner, Mulder began to wipe the words   
from his flesh. 

*** 

It was just as he had thought. All he had to do was to hold up the blood-stained jacket and Skinner's face went white. "She was in   
remission. What happened?" 

She chose to have the implant removed after the incident on the bridge; she was insistent that she not be under someone else's control.   
The growth rate is very fast. I've got to get back in there and get another one." 

"You can't do that." Skinner got up from behind his desk and took the chair next to Mulder's. "You're hot." 

"How?" 

"Your face is all over that surveillance video. You think those syndicate guys aren't offering serious money for anyone who catches you   
with your hand in the cookie jar again?" 

"Sir, I'm desperate. I can't let her die." 

"You don't have to." Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'm just as responsible for this as you are. I'll go." 

During the thick silence that followed, Mulder watched his superior carefully. Steepling his fingers, he leaned forward in the chair and   
looked at Skinner out of the edge of his vision. "Why are you doing this? Why are you going out on a limb for her yet again?" 

There was the brief sound of mirthless laughter. "For the same reason you do, Agent Mulder. Only I admit it to myself." 

Swallowing hard, Mulder looked down at his hands. "Does she know?" 

"I doubt it. I hope not. It doesn't matter, anyway." 

"It would probably matter to *her,* " Mulder told him adamantly. 

"You don't get it, do you?" Skinner got to his feet and paced around the room. "For a psychologist you manage to miss some pretty   
obvious things. Oh, I have her respect and her gratitude, but I can never have anything more than that. I can never have her heart, or   
her spirit." He stopped behind Mulder's chair, looking down at the bowed head. "She gave those to you long ago." 

There was nothing Mulder could say. He sat in the chair, trying to collect his whirling thoughts. Slowly he rose and extended his hand   
to Skinner. It was shaken gravely in a steadfast grip. Mulder opened his lips silently, then shook his head. 

"I'm assigning you to guard her, Agent Mulder. I have some things to do." Releasing his agent's hand, he watched him head for the   
door. "She's not going to die," he added. "I promise you that." 

*** 

"You've been assigned to guard me?" Scully asked incredulously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"I think it means that I'm worthless without you and I might as well stay out of the office. Look what happened to me last time." 

"There are still lead marks on the ceiling tiles." 

They were sitting on the sofa, eating Chinese food from the containers with chopsticks. Scully was wearing sweats, her hair tied back in   
a ponytail. Her fair skin was whiter than usual, but she looked healthy except for the occasional look of fear that crossed her features.   
Mulder had brought a bag with him and changed into jeans and a black turtleneck; his bare feet were under the coffee table. He, too,   
seemed normal save for the sudden, concerned glances he shot at her when he thought she was looking away. 

This time there was an intersection of their panic. Caught, embarrassed, they both turned away. Scully cleared her throat. "This is so   
stupid. Why am I afraid of telling you what I'm thinking?" 

"I have a theory. Ow," he said as Scully elbowed him, rolling her eyes. "I used to have ribs *and* a theory. Now it's just a theory.   
You always tell me not to protect you. The truth is, you protect me. Maybe that's whatís happening right now." 

"Or maybe this is simple denial." 

"Or maybe you have some groundless fear of disappointing me." At her stunned look, he shrugged. "Thatís what your brother told   
me." 

"Oh, really? What else did he tell you?" 

"He called me, and I quote, 'one sorry son of a bitch.' " 

"He didn't!" 

"He did." He set down his food. "He had a very, very strong point. I've done a lot of very stupid things in the course of my career.   
And I've left out the only thing that's worth doing. The only thing that matters." 

"Such as?" She peered at him over her food and saw, much to her surprise, that his face was touched with color and his eyes were   
moist. "Mulder, what are you talking about?" 

"There's something I have to tell you." 

"I've had a bad day, Mulder. I can't take any more surprises." 

"I hope this won't be too much of a surprise. Skinner figured it out without my help, so you probably did, too." 

"Mulder..." she growled warningly. 

"Put down the chopsticks. I won't talk to an armed agent." He waited until her food went down on the table. "Remember Eddie van   
Blundht?" 

"Oh, God." Down went the red head onto the back of the sofa. 

"When I broke in here, I was horrified to find out that he looked so much like me that he fooled you into..." 

"Don't go there." 

"Okay. Okay." He took a deep breath. "Do you want to know what really bothered me?" 

She shot him a murderous glare. "This better be good." 

"That he was brave enough to do what I'd only dreamed about." 

It took a few seconds for the statement to register. Scullyís face displayed a rapidly-changing series of emotions: suspicion,   
incomprehension, shock, more shock, and delight. Her lips parted and her eyes grew wide. 

"I guess it was a surprise, after all." He inched carefully closer to her. "Are you okay?" 

"What?" She was staring at him vacantly. 

"Did you hear anything I just said?" 

"I heard what you said. I'm just not sure I heard what you meant." 

His mouth twitched. "I guess I'd better make myself clearer." 

"Okay." 

Slowly he cupped her face in his hands, savoring the feel of her warm skin against his fingers. He leaned forward and kissed her with   
his soul on his lips. With trembling hands she stroked the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her and deepening the kiss. At long   
last she turned her head and pulled away just far enough to see the longing in his green velvet eyes. She felt her face grow warm; he saw   
the glow of blood flowing to her cheeks and the sight enchanted him. With a smile more tender than any she had ever seen, he kissed   
her palm and held it over his heart. 

She was unable to do anything but stare at him. Only when her skin stopped burning did she notice that her heart was beating wildly.   
Scarcely able to breathe, she whispered: "If you wanted to get my mind off my cancer, you did a good job." 

He caressed her cheek. "I just wanted you to know." 

The phone rang. 

With a groan, Scully reached for it, but Mulder stilled her hand. "Let the machine get it." 

"You're a fine one to suggest that, Mulder." 

"Please." He waited until she acquiesced, then drew her into his arms. On the fourth ring, Scully's voice could be heard asking the   
caller to leave a message. 

"I'm looking for a Dana Scully. This is Abby Whitman at Georgetown Hospital's emergency unit. Mr. Walter Skinner is on his way to   
surgery..." 

"I'm here!" Scully shouted as she pushed the hands-free button on the phone. "What happened?" 

"Mr. Skinner is being treated for multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen and right thigh." 

"Oh, God," Mulder exclaimed as he got up and reached for his keys. 

"We're on our way. What's his condition?" 

"Critical."   


***** 

Mulder gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. He careened around corners at a breakneck pace, nearly   
running over a pedestrian in the process. Scully put her hand on his arm. "Stop the car," she demanded. With a screech of tires,   
Mulder obeyed. He stared straight ahead into the sunset even as Scully spoke to him. "Mulder, what happened to Skinner--does it have   
anything to do with me?" 

He nodded, miserable. "In a roundabout way, yes." 

"Where was he?" 

"Department of Defense." 

Scully let out a whistling breath and put her head in her hands. "He went to get a chip." 

"I wanted to go myself, Scully, but he knew they'd be waiting for me. I guess they were expecting him, too." He leaned over to peer   
into her face. "Scully, he wanted to do this. It meant a lot to him, to be able to help you." 

"Why me?" 

Mulder's throat tightened as he remembered the words Skinner would never say to her. "He felt responsible for what happened. You   
were abducted while under his supervision. He admires you--he told me that himself. Besides, he knows how useless I am without   
you." 

It was Scully's turn to stare straight ahead. Mulder could see her thinking and wondering. 

"Did it occur to you that I'd be the logical choice to send in there and look around? If I got shot, what difference would it make? I'm   
dying anyway." 

"Scully!" 

"Did it?" 

He sighed. "Actually, no." 

"Mulder, you've got to get over this idea of rescuing me. It's a pain in the ass." 

The dark head drooped. "Sorry. I keep screwing up." He flashed Scully a weak smile. "It wasn't just me, though. Skinner tried to   
get the Smoking Man to turn over the cure. He--he made a deal with him." 

"A deal? Mulder, what're you talking about?" 

"Like the one I was offered. Skinner took it. He kept me from following that path from the very beginning, from the time you were first   
diagnosed. He took all of this on himself, Scully." 

Her eyes slid shut. Skinner. Her would-be savior. "That's why you said he couldn't have been the mole." 

"He didn't want you to know. I only found out by accident." 

"Oh, my God." She turned to look at him, her eyes dry but brilliant. With an effort she dampened down her agitation at being   
needlessly protected and turned to the task at hand. "Let's get to him before anyone else does." 

*** 

Amidst the grim-faced people awaiting news in the waiting room, two were especially grim-faced. Mulder pulled out his identification   
card and waved it in front of the admitting nurse. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder, and this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully.   
We would like an update on the condition of Walter Skinner..." 

"That information can only be released to the family," the nurse said calmly. "Please take a seat." 

"But..." 

"Sir, please take a seat. Next, please?" 

"Did I mention that I'm with the FBI?" 

"Next." 

Scully could see Mulder's jaw muscles clenching dangerously. "Come on, Mulder. We'll find another way." She took his arm and led   
him away as if he were a child being forced to leave a particularly tempting display of candy. "She's just doing her job. And it's a   
stressful job, I can assure you." 

He was staring down the corridor with empty eyes. 

"Mulder?" 

*I'm looking for a Dana Scully. Can anyone help me?* 

The horror of that night gripped him tightly. She was dying, and he couldn't find her through the maze of silent bureaucracy. She was   
dying. 

She was standing next to him, holding him by the coat sleeve. He shook away the cobwebs in his head and nodded to her. "Which   
way?" 

"Straight up to Surgery. Let's move." Ushering him into the elevator, she pushed the floor button and looked up at him. "Where were   
you, just then?" 

"A bad place. Somewhere I don't ever want to be, again." 

*What happened to her?* 

*She's dying.* 

Scully suddenly realized what Mulder was thinking, and she slipped her hand into his. "Let's concentrate on finding Skinner." 

"Okay." The doors slid open and Scully led the way to the surgery board. Scanning the list, she found which operating room was   
Skinner's and headed in that direction. An armed policeman blocked her path. Both Scully and Mulder flashed their badges. 

"What the hell happened?" Scully demanded. 

"Director Skinner was found by someone manning the surveillance cameras at the DOD. He'd been pretty badly shot up." 

"Is he under arrest?" Mulder asked. 

"No, sir. But the details are sketchy as to what he was doing at the Pentagon." 

"Is he still in surgery?" 

"No, ma'am. He's in surgical ICU. I'm supposed to ensure his safety. And, I also have orders to keep everyone out of there." 

"That'd be everyone but us," Mulder drawled. The policeman looked dubious. 

"I can let one of you in." 

"Officer...Melton? I'm a medical doctor, and my partner is a psychologist. I think both of our skills might be useful just now, don't   
you?" 

He sighed. Messing with the FBI was not in his job description. "Ten minutes, or my ass is grass and Dr. Corbett's the lawn mower." 

"Thank you." Scully gave him a bright smile and stormed through the glass doors, Mulder trailing in her wake. Stopping to glance at   
Skinner's charts, Scully bit her lip. "It's not fatal, but there's a lot of damage; he'll be hurting pretty badly." 

"We'll keep it short. I just want to know if he got the chip." 

"I...didn't..." 

Skinner looked at them with glassy eyes. "They knew. They were...waiting..." 

"Take it easy, sir," Scully said softly, taking hold of the hand with the fewest IV lines. "I just read your charts. You need your rest, but   
you're going to be okay." Skinner nodded slowly. "You've been given morphine, and your head's probably a little foggy right now.   
Try to relax and tell us just what happened." 

Mulder stood at the foot of the bed, his chest aching. "You said they were waiting." 

"Ambush. They shot me just as I reached into the box." 

"The vials were stored in boxes," Mulder said as an aside to Scully. "Labeled, in an old-fashioned library kind of way. Almost   
deliberately low-tech." 

Skinner nodded his assent. 

"I've got to to back in," Mulder continued, but Skinner shook his head slowly. 

"None left. Destroyed." 

Scully choked back a gasp. "How?" 

"Broke the vials...crushed...all of them..." His head sank back into the pillow. Summoning all of his strength, he turned to Scully.   
"I'm sorry." 

"Don't, don't." She stroked his arm, her face compassionate. "We'll find something else. You've done so much..." 

"Not...enough..." 

Mulder could see that Skinner was dangerously close to breaking down and he wanted to keep Scully from being a witness. "We'll   
check on you later, sir. Call if you need anything." 

The brush of Scully's hand on Skinner's forehead was almost unbearable to him. He looked over at Mulder. "A moment?" 

Scully departed, glancing backward at her partner, who waved her on as he went to Skinner's side. "What can I do?" 

"Anything. Anything to save her. You have...full authority...permission..." His eyes slid shut and he fell into a drugged, restless   
sleep. 

Mulder's step was slow and heavy as he joined Scully in the hallway. She looked up, curious. "What did he want?" 

He exhaled. Part of him wanted to tell her about Skinner's devotion, but he was unwilling to betray the confidence. "He's letting me   
use his parking space." 

"Cut the crap, Mulder," she snapped, exasperated. "Out with it." 

"He's giving me something I never thought he'd give. Carte blanche, Scully. Anything I want to do. Anything I can do to help you." 

Her mouth curved downward as she lost herself in her own memories. 

Falling backward into a chair, her life's blood draining away. *It was you...* 

Finding out that he had risked life and career to force his enemy to give him a cure. 

For the first time, she had an inkling of what the weight of Mulder's guilt must be. 

"Scully?" 

She came out of her reverie. "Sorry. My turn to wander off." 

They passed Officer Melton, nodding as they headed back into the elevator. "I mean it, Scully. Skinner said I can do anything, no   
questions asked. But I don't know what to do." He paused for breath. "I was counting on obtaining a second chip. Now I'm..." he   
gestured with his hands. "...at a loss." 

"There's one thing we're going to have to do right away," Scully said quietly. "And I'm going to need your help on this." 

They passed a look of understanding and Mulder nodded. He put his hand at the small of Scully's back as the elevator opened and they   
went out into the hall. "I'll go get the car; you call your mom and tell her we're on our way." 

*** 

Margaret Scully sat on the front porch of her house with a certain degree of trepidation. Her daughter's phone call had been short and   
cryptic: "Mom, we're coming over to see you in about twenty minutes. Don't worry." 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself with the aroma of spring flowers before facing whatever lay ahead. Dana was not one for   
sudden social visits. When she appeared on her mother's doorstep, a crisis was usually at hand. 

And when Fox Mulder appeared on her doorstep, all hell was about to break loose. 

The blue Taurus pulled into her driveway and she prayed that whatever was about to happen would happen quickly. "Dana, honey," she   
called out as her daughter emerged from the passenger seat. "Fox, it's good to see you." 

Scully wrinkled her nose at the sound of her partner's first name, intercepting Mulder's glance of bemusement. Only Margaret was   
allowed to call him that without repercussions. Mulder's long legs carried him to the porch first. He extended his hand to her. "Mrs.   
Scully," he said, only to be caught short when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. 

"It's Margaret," she chided him, secretly amused by his manners. She caught Dana's eye and released Mulder to go to her daughter.   
"Hello, sweetheart." 

"Hi, Mom," she answered, smiling through her weariness. Scully put her slender arms around her mother's neck and held her tightly,   
wanting to prolong these last few moments of peace for the woman she loved so dearly. Margaret stroked her silky head. Her fingers   
touched the bandage at the nape of Scully's neck and she pulled away sharply. 

"You're hurt!" 

"No, Mom, it's just a little cut. No stitches. I'm fine." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mulder's face falling. She took her   
mother's hand. "Let's go inside." 

"For God's sake, Dana, just tell me what's going on." 

Two stubborn women stood toe-to-toe in the warm evening air. 

"I had the implant removed." 

Margaret looked at Mulder for confirmation, and he nodded. "But--why?" 

"You heard about the mass burnings in Pennsylvania? I was there, Mom. Something in that chip compelled me to go. I don't even   
have any recollection of the trip, but I was there. To this day I don't know how I got away with only minor burns." 

"Burns?" 

"You were visiting Charlie. I didn't call because I only stayed in the hospital one night and then I was released." 

"I think I need to sit down." 

The two women sat on the porch swing and Mulder leaned against the opposite railing, watching them. "Mom, I can't allow some   
foreign object to control my life," Scully said calmly. 

"I understand that. What I don't understand is why you're telling me..." She put her hand to her mouth in horror.&nbs>   


Transfer interrupted! 

hen you had it implanted. Dana?" 

"I'm sorry, Mom. It was a chance I had to take." 

"Can't you put it back? Fox, can't they put it back?" 

He shook his head. "It's too damaged. And we can't get another one." 

Margaret's body slumped as if her spine were melting. "There's got to be something you can do. Some new treatment...like Dr.   
Zuckerman was administering..." 

Scully spoke calmly, her voice studiously level. "Mom, I've exhausted every known avenue. There are no answers for me, for this   
disease. There's no medical cure. The scientific cure came at too high a cost--and it's no longer available." 

"There's your faith," Margaret offered. 

Scully looked away, into Mulder's brooding eyes, and back at her mother. "I still have faith. I believe that I was given a choice between   
slavery and death, and I've made that choice. It's my faith that will give me the strength to die with dignity." 

Mulder buried his face in his hands with a sharp sigh of grief. 

Scully's head was held high and her eyes flashed defiantly. 

No pity was asked for and none was given, for there was equal defiance in Margaret's expression. "I do not and will not accept defeat   
from you, Dana." Scully's lips trembled, but she held her mother's gaze. 

Suddenly Margaret turned her eyes to Mulder. "And I won't accept it from you, either. You fought for her when she turned up in a   
coma. Even Melissa and I were ready to say our goodbyes, but you challenged us every step of the way until you brought her back.   
Are you going to stand there and tell us that there's nothing to be done?" 

The night sounds were suddenly still. Mulder draped his arm around the post and looked away for a moment. "Last year I was   
desperate. I spent hours every day researching, questioning. Finally, I called someone I thought could help me." He caught Scully's   
questioning glance. "He offered to help. I believe he still will." 

"You never told me..." 

"It was right when everything began to go to hell. There wasn't time." 

Margaret watched in grim fascination as her daughter and Mulder spoke in shorthand, their eyes filling in all the blanks as they shared   
memories. "Fox? Who is it?" 

"Albert Hosteen." 

The face of the gentle, sagacious old man came abruptly to Margaret's memory at the same time that Scully let out a loud, disdainful   
breath. "Mulder, you can't be serious!" 

"I was as good as dead when they hauled me out from under those rocks, Scully. I know, because I remember everything that   
happened. He saved my life." 

"You don't know that." 

"The hell I don't!" 

"Mulder, mystical incantations in the woods have no bearing on physical illness." 

"And twisting beads around your finger DOES?" 

"Fox!" Margaret interjected sternly. 

"Mrs. Scully, I'm not being disrespectful. I just don't understand how one set of prayers can be said to have special powers if another   
doesn't. Aren't there more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our comfortable philosophies?" 

Three minds worked feverishly in the silence that ensued. 

"Dana?" Margaret took her daughter's hand. "What do you think caused your remission?" 

Scully studied her for a moment. "For a long time I thought it was my faith that turned it around. But now...now I'm not so sure any   
more." 

"Maybe that faith is being tested. Maybe you're being asked to let it branch out into things you can't categorize and number," Margaret   
prompted. 

"Maybe." 

"And, Dana, maybe you're just being given a different choice." 

"Maybe." She turned her face up to the soft breeze, letting it cool her flushed skin as her thoughts drifted into nothingness. It was her   
mother's startled gasp that brought her back to herself. Instinctively she put her finger to her upper lip; there was a warm wetness there   
that stained her finger scarlet. 

Mulder's handkerchief appeared in her hand and she stanched the flow of blood. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly and her mother   
stroked her hair. Scully looked from one loving, frightened, hopeful face to the other and sighed. 

"You're both crazy, you know that." 

Margaret caught Mulder's eye and smiled warmly. "We know." 

Scully sighed again. 

"So when do we leave?" 

*****   
End part 3/4   


*****   
Changing Woman (4/4) 

Part 4   
See Part 1 for disclaimers and information 

Author's note: The "Night Chant" used in this story is an authentic Navajo prayer. "Changing Woman" really is a central figure in   
Navajo mythology. 

Speaking of mythology, "Changing Woman" is the mother of "Monster Slayer" and "Born of Water." : ) 

***** 

"You look better than the last time I saw you," Albert remarked to Mulder as he welcomed the jet-lagged agents into his home. "You   
haven't been shot lately." 

"I haven't needed shooting," Mulder replied with a grateful smile and a nod to Scully as she emerged from her side of the rental car. 

The strain of travel had been increased for her by the excruciating pain of the tumor. In a matter of days it had enlarged enough to give   
her a nearly constant headache, and produced so many nosebleeds that her blood pressure was beginning to sink. 

Her heart, however, was undaunted. With sheer willpower she kept her back straight and her head high. She noticed, but did not   
mention, that Mulder slowed his steps to keep pace with her and that all their bags were in his hands. His tacit support made it possible   
for her to keep her dignity even as her body betrayed her. 

And her demonstration of courage kept him sane. 

With no prompting, Eric Hosteen came forward and offered Scully his arm to help her up the stairs. Scully bit back the "I'm fine" that   
rose to her lips and accepted the teenager's assistance. She shook hands with his grandfather. "Thank you, Albert, for agreeing to see   
us." 

"It is my pleasure." He motioned for Mulder to join them in the living room. "I'm only sorry that we meet once more under the cloud of   
sad circumstances." 

Scully took a seat, her feet sore and her head throbbing. "I'm sorry, too. I never had a chance to thank you for looking after my mother   
and my sister." 

"There's no need. I only regret that my premonition was right." 

A fleeting cloud passed over Scully's face at the memory of her sister's needless death. Mulder, who was leaning over the back of her   
chair, put a hand on her shoulder and kept it there. 

"Your mother is a courageous woman. She fought ferociously to keep your sister alive. She should not lose another daughter." 

Mulder nodded. "That's why we came here. We're asking for your help." 

"Whatever I can do for you, I will." He observed Scully as she unconsciously rubbed her arms against the growing chill of the   
evening. Mulder made a move to take a blanket off of the sofa, lifting his eyebrows to Albert for permission before wrapping it around   
Scully. 

The tender intimacy of the gesture was not lost on their host, nor was the look of silent gratitude that passed from Scully's pain-dimmed   
eyes to Mulder's anxious ones. 

"Those who sought to part you have failed. The bond I sensed between you when we met three years ago is unimaginably strong   
now." He turned his perceptive eyes on Scully. "He crossed into the land of the dead, seeking answers, but he returned to you. Now   
you stand at the edge of that same path and look into the darkness, unafraid for yourself but fearful for those you love." 

Fascinated, Scully leaned forward and listened attentively. 

"It was the scientist in you who sought us out, to get the translations of the documents you risked your lives to safeguard. Your spiritual   
nature was closed to us then. You found us useful, but quaint." 

Scully could not repress a smile. Mulder chuckled, and she cuffed him lightly on the arm. 

"I was a different person then." 

"Who are you tonight?" 

She considered her reply carefully. "Tonight I am one who wants to believe." 

Albert was satisfied with the answer, smiling benevolently on the two agents. "Then tonight we will begin." 

*** 

Scully refused to rest until she spoke with Skinner. She kept her head close to Mulder's while he made contact with the hospital room. 

"Sir, it's Mulder." 

Skinner's voice was stronger, albeit still rough from the tubes that had administered his anesthesia. "So you took that vacation time.   
Where are you?" 

"New Mexico. Visiting an old friend." 

There was always a chance of an uninvited listener, so they kept their conversation neutral, with a subtext that only they would   
understand. 

"How's the scenery?" *How is she?* 

"Not as colorful as I remember, but that should be improving soon." *Not good, but there's hope.* "How are you feeling?" 

"Better, thank you. I should be able to go home alone by the end of the week." *I'm being watched here.* 

"Let me talk to him," Scully whispered. Mulder handed her the phone. "Sir, what are the doctors saying?" 

"That there's no sign of infection and that everything seems to be healing normally." 

"Good. I'm glad. You really should be more careful, sir." *I know what you did for me.* 

"I will. And I hope your vacation is everything you deserve." *Get well.* "Let me speak to Mulder for a moment." 

She passed the phone to Mulder. "I'm back," he said. 

"I gave you full authority, Agent Mulder. Use it wisely." *It means everything to us both.* 

Mulder swallowed hard past the lump that formed in his throat. "I promise." The line went dead and he put the phone away in his   
pocket. "He sounds good," he told Scully. 

She nodded slowly, her mind far away. 

"Hey." Mulder went to her and put an arm loosely around her shoulders. "Where are you, Scully?" 

"Hmm? Oh, just thinking." She allowed herself to lean on him just a little. "I never thought I'd be trying to reach inside myself for the   
answers, not this way. I was so sure that they'd be something external, something concrete." 

"Something you could hold in your hand," he added, slipping his fingers through hers. 

"I never thought I'd try to find a cure this way." 

" 'Physician, heal thyself,' " he quoted. 

Scully laughed, a bright smile crossing her pale features. "They're going to come for me soon. I'm about to try something outrageous.   
Maybe the most outrageous thing I've ever considered--and after five years with you, that's saying something." 

"Ouch, Scully." 

There was a knock on the door, and women's voices called to Scully. "I have to go. Albert said you're welcome to come in when it   
starts." 

"I'll be there. Good luck." He kissed her lightly on the forehead, letting his fingers touch the place where Death lurked, then tilted her   
face up and pressed his lips over hers. 

Her eyes glittered with hope as she walked away from him to where the women waited to prepare her. 

*** 

Albert waited several minutes before entering the room. "She is very ill," he said to Mulder. "It will be difficult for her. Perhaps more   
difficult than it was for you." 

"She's stronger than I am. She always was." 

"Your spirit is tied to hers. For that reason I am asking you to be more than a spectator in this ceremony. I would like for you to   
perform the Night Chant for her." 

"Is that allowed?" 

"It should be performed by the one closest to the person who is ill. It should be you. It must be you." Albert handed Mulder a piece of   
paper containing a long poem. "You will need to learn it by heart." 

Mulder's eyes never left the paper as he answered. "Oh, I will." 

*** 

Scully found the bath in yucca suds to be fragrant and soothing. Bemused by the idea of having someone attending her, she tried to   
relax as her hair was washed in rain water and a ceremonial dress was laid out for her. 

She rose reluctantly from the warm water and dried herself off. "It's so soft," she said of the fabric as she smoothed the dress with her   
fingers. 

The woman, whose name was Natalie, smiled. "It's part of the ceremony. The dress is made of soft fibers, because Changing Woman   
was said to have control over them." 

"Changing Woman?" Scully inquired as she slipped into the sage-colored, flowing dress. 

"To our people, Changing Woman represents the natural cycle of the earth and her seasons. We thought hers would be a good spirit to   
invoke in your name." 

"Why is that?" 

"Because she symbolizes the changing seasons. In summer she is mature and wise. In the fall she is dying, and she dies in winter. But   
in the spring, she is reborn and brings new hope." 

Scully fell silent. Natalie handed her several strands of necklaces made of jet, abalone shells, and turquoise, and helped her put them   
on. "They're beautiful." 

"They represent earth, sea, and sky, the provinces of Changing Woman. Now they are yours." 

When Scully was ready, they left Natalie's house and approached the hoogan. Albert was waiting there with several elders and Mulder.   
"The hoogan is a special place. We prepared it for you yesterday, and it is ready. The spirits of the dead come here and visit. But only   
those who died when it was their time. If someone young dies in the hoogan, it must be destroyed." He put his hand on Scully's   
forehead. "I do not wish to see this hoogan destroyed." 

She bit her lips and blinked back tears. "Neither do I." 

Inside the round-roofed building, Scully sat in the center of a large circle of people. Mulder was close by, smiling his encouragement.   
Albert and an assistant prepared a sand painting as the rest of the group prayed quietly. 

"This is Changing Woman herself, the daughter of the First Man and Woman of Unsurpassed Beauty. Her image is made up of   
materials from the earth, from cornmeal, pollen, and the petals of flowers. In this picture she is running toward the dawn, her hair   
bathed in dew, as she is reborn. That is the story of our song." 

While some of the men cut and painted prayer sticks and laid them out, Albert's son began to sing a different melody. "What's that?"   
Mulder asked. 

"He is singing a song from the Blessing Way, the chant we performed for you. It is to ensure that all of our rituals will be correct and   
acceptable. Especially as the Night Chant is to be performed by an outsider." 

Scully cast Mulder an apprehensive look. 

"I've heard him make the chant, Dana. He's really quite good." 

There was a hiss of muted laughter. 

"Laughter is a healing entity, too," Albert assured them all. 

When the ceremony was finished, Albert pointed out a bed of leaves. "This is for you, for your night journey." When Scully started to   
lie down in it, there was more laughter. "Without the dress," Albert added, a wicked glint in his eyes. 

"May I be alone to get ready?" 

"Of course, of course. I will send Fox to you in a few minutes, and he will perform the chant." He took her aside and spoke into her   
ear. "It will be your choice whether to let your body heal itself or not, whether to live or die. Just as he once had to choose to return to   
you, you must choose whether or not to return to him." Albert waited for his words to register. "Good night, then." 

Sighing, Scully waited for privacy before stepping out of the dress and covering herself with strategically-placed leaves. A minute later   
Mulder re-entered and sat on the ground at her side. 

"I have," he said slowly, "a sudden craving for salad." 

Scully fixed him with a gimlet stare. "Touch my tomatoes, Mulder, and it'll be your *wounds* that need 'dressing.' " 

His hands went up in an innocent gesture. One of them came down and rested on Scully's cheek. "Are you ready?" 

"As much as I'll ever be." Scully was about to close her eyes, but Mulder stayed her with a touch on her bare shoulder. They did not   
speak, for they could not find words. All that needed to be said was conveyed by a knowing look and one tender kiss. 

Scully let her eyes slide shut, listening to the dark comfort of Mulder's voice. He recited earnestly, his mind wandering as a particularly   
apt phrase struck him. 

"House made of dawn.   
House made of evening light.   
House made of male rain.   
House made of dark mist.   
House made of female rain.   
House made of pollen.   
House made of grasshoppers. 

Dark cloud is at the door.   
The trail out of it is dark cloud.   
The zigzag lightning stands high upon it. ?   
Male deity!   
Your offering I make.   
I have prepared a smoke for you." 

*Scully, listen to me. Hear my words. Hear my prayer.* 

"Restore her feet for her.   
Restore her legs for her.   
Restore her body for her.   
Restore her mind for her." 

*Your brilliant jewel of a mind.* 

"This very day take out your spell for her.   
Your spell remove for her.   
You have taken it away for her.   
Far off has it gone. 

Happily she recovers.   
Happily her interior becomes cool.   
Happily she goes forth. 

Her interior feeling cool, may she walk.   
No longer sore, may she walk.   
Impervious to pain, may she walk.   
With lively feelings, may she walk.   
As it used to be long ago, may she walk." 

*We walked together so many times. Come back and walk with me again.* 

"Happily may she walk.   
Happily, with abundant dark clouds, may she walk.   
Happily, with abundant showers, may she walk.   
Happily, with abundant plants, may she walk.   
Happily, on a trail of pollen, may she walk.   
Happily may she walk. 

Being as it used to be long ago, may she walk.   
May it be beautiful before her.   
May it be beautiful behind her.   
May it be beautiful below her.   
May it be beautiful above her.   
May it be beautiful all around her." 

*Sleep, Scully. Dream of beauty.* 

"In beauty it is finished." 

*** 

Scully remained in her bed of leaves, but the walls of the hoogan melted away and she found herself suspended in a starry night sky. In   
the distance she sensed otherworldly figures, protective rather than menacing, their voices hushed. One voice came to her more strongly   
than the others, nearer and nearer, until she heard it in her ear. 

"Starbuck." 

Her eyes flew open. 

"Ahab." Her arms and legs were too heavy to move, so she lay still within the prison of her earthly body, using her eyes to express the   
love she felt for her father. 

"I've missed you." He leaned over and dropped a kiss on her forehead. The touch of his lips was light, like butterfly wings, but   
soothing and tender. "You've had a hard time. I wish I could've been there for you. I tried to reach out to you, Dana, and lend you   
some of my strength." 

"I've felt you near me. Almost like the way you came to me after I was abducted, but not quite so clear. In dreams, just before I woke   
up." 

He knelt and stroked her hair. "Do you remember what I told you in those dreams?" 

"I'm not sure." 

"I told you that I'm proud of you. I never said that to you that when you needed to know; it was important that you understand." 

"I do understand," Scully said softly. "And I know that it was hard for you to do." 

"It's hard to fight our natural inclinations. I was a military man, just like your brother is now, and every bit as rigid in my belief that I   
knew what was best for my children. Your mother always tried to make me see that you'd chosen the right path for yourself, but I   
wouldn't admit it. Then it was too late." 

He paused, his face lighting up with a smile. "And you, my baby girl, are more like me than you care to admit. Your inclination is to   
dismiss everything that cannot be identified and quantified. But sometimes, Starbuck, what is most ephemeral is what is most   
important. You're at a point now where you can see that." 

"Dad's right." 

Scully turned her head at the sound of the new voice. Somehow she was not surprised to see Melissa on her other side. 

"Hello, Dana." 

"Missy." She blinked back guilty tears. "Missy, I'm so sorry..." 

"It's okay. I'm here with Dad, and it's a wonderful place. I love it here." She touched her sister's forehead. "I'm so sorry about the   
cancer, Dana. But it was an outside force that did it to you, and now it's up to you to heal yourself. Your good is stronger than their   
evil. You have to try." 

"I'm tired. I know I promised Mom, but I'm just so tired." 

"I know, I know," her father said soothingly. 

"And your body feels heavy here," Melissa added. "You want to leave it behind." 

"Yes! Why can't I just leave it and stay with you?" 

"You can, Starbuck, if that's what you really want. If you don't want to fight against what was done to you and prove that you can   
conquer those who tried to destroy you." 

"It wasn't just me. There was...Emily." 

Melissa smiled. "She's lovely, Dana." 

"Oh, my God. She's here? Let me see her!" 

"Don't, Starbuck." 

"Why can't I see her?" 

"Ssh, Dana. Emily is with the mother and father she knew in life. You don't really want to pull her away from that, not after all she's   
been through. She's happy now." 

Scully relented even though her heart was unbearably lonely. Suddenly she felt a strange urge, an almost physical sense of being pulled   
away. "What's happening?" she asked, confused. 

"You're feeling a tie to your life. Your earthly life, the one you share with Mom." Melissa leaned over her sister, a familiar   
conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "And with Mulder." 

"Mulder," Scully murmured. "He came with me, but he's not here." 

"He's with you. Listen." 

Amidst the whispering of the distant guardians came a familiar voice that broke slightly on the words it had been repeating for hours. 

"May it be beautiful below her.   
May it be beautiful above her.   
May it be beautiful all around her.   
In beauty it is finished." 

"Mulder." Scully turned her eyes to her father. "I have to go back." 

"Yes. I think that's best." He and Melissa drew closer, each giving a farewell kiss to Scully's warm cheek. 

"Will I remember this?" Scully asked. 

"Sometimes, in your dreams." Her father kissed her one last time as the stars began to close in on her. "Smooth sailing, Starbuck. I   
love you." 

"I love you, Dad. Missy. I love you." 

"In beauty it is finished." 

*** 

She awoke to the first light of morning, her body curled up tightly in Mulder's sleeping embrace. Home. The faint memory of a   
pleasant dream brought a smile to her lips, but something else made her suddenly, completely aware of what she had just experienced.   
She touched her forehead. 

There was no pain. 

***** 

End 4/4 

***** 

Optional epilogue follows.   


***** 

Changing Woman   
Epilogue: 

By the time Mulder's eyes opened, Scully had changed back into her ceremonial dress and was holding his head in her lap. "Hey," she   
said as soon as his consciousness registered her presence. 

"Scu..." He had to stop and clear his roughened throat. "Talked too long last night," he rasped, sitting up and looking over at her. She   
winced sympathetically as she handed him a cup of water and waited for him to take a sip. "How do you feel?" Mulder asked. 

"Fine. No, better than fine. I feel--good." 

He waited, absorbing her tone and her expression. "Good?" His fingers went to her forehead. "Scully?" 

"Mulder, I can't even start to explain how I know, but I do know." She smiled, her face touched with color and her eyes clear. "I   
know," she repeated. 

To her alarm, she saw his face crumple and tears form in his eyes. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'm not used to having my wishes   
granted." 

"Come here." There was an invitation in her opened arms and he took it gratefully. As he rested and gathered his thoughts, Scully   
continued. "I'm going to have this checked out when we get back." 

"Gift horse, Scully. Don't tempt fate." 

"I'm not going to tempt fate, just--reinforce it with knowledge. I'm among the living and I'm staying here." 

"With me?" 

"Maybe." She made sure that he saw the bright smile on her face, then held him even closer so that he could feel the strong, regular beat   
of her heart. 

"Hey, Scully. There's something I didn't tell you." 

Her eyebrows raised, she looked into his face. "What?" 

"This ceremony lasts for nine nights." 

She considered her response before leaning over to whisper it into his ear, the word barely audible above the rustling of the leaves. 

"Fine." 

***** 

End 

***** 

Feedback is welcome at marguerite@swbell.net.   
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